


Results May Vary

by tsukinofaerii



Category: Marvel Ultimates
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-12
Updated: 2010-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-11 17:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukinofaerii/pseuds/tsukinofaerii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alien artifacts and weapons of doom never have the effect you expect them to. "Let me get this clear. Nick Fury is stalking <em>pen thieves</em> in the walls of the Triskelion, and Captain America is getting belly rubs. Am I right?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Results May Vary

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Valtyr, who was kind enough to beta in a hurry.

"Damn it, Steve, I've got this!" Tony blocked a blast of green light. The alien vessel was completely deserted, and looked like it had been drifting for centuries. It was just a long series of plain metal corridors, fashioned out of some sort of faintly green alloy that Tony itched to get a sample of. Space had mostly preserved the interior—including the security systems. As soon as they'd stepped out of their vessel into the nearly-dark cavern of a docking bay, they'd been under assault, and retreat wasn't an option because of—

"Stark, get the hell out of the way," Fury cursed, ducking another blast. "We've got this, you find the hub and fucking killfile the bitch!"

Because of Fury, whose sheer machismo overload wouldn't let him admit he was out of control if he were six months dead. "I _told_ you, I can't killfile a program that's not even in an Earth language!" He blocked another beam of light from the right. They'd identified six sources and taken out two of them. The firing ports, flat panels of a slightly bluer shade, vanished back into the walls when they weren't firing, giving everyone practice in the art of aiming on the move. Besides that, they were damned hard to take out.

His armor's titantium alloy seemed to protect him from everything but the force of the blow. Steve and Fury, on the other hand, were probably susceptible. 100psi would leave just about anyone other than Hulk with serious ventilation problems, and that didn't say anything about the unidentified particles that were embedded in it. "Look, just _let me_ —"

"I've got it located!" Steve shouted, twisting around a blast aimed at him. "Eight o'clock, three feet from the ceiling!"

Tony focused in. The target was barely visible in the half-light of the corridor, a tiny slot about three inches wide. Only a tiny pin-prick of moving green light differentiated it from the rest of the room. Motion detector. Steve raised his shield and let fly, just as the armor's sensors squealed a warning and another blue panel slid into the open.

" _Get out of the way_!" The communications link squealed in protest as Tony's shouted warning broadcast over the armor's speakers. He took a shot at the panel with a force beam, but the port barely dented. " _It's going t_ —"

Green light flared. Neither Steve nor Fury even had a chance to duck before it hit them tossing them back like dolls. The steady readings of their life signs spiked and vanished into a confusing blur of nonsense.

Metal cracked as the shield slammed into its target, ricocheting off to lodge in a wall. Red light flashed from the slot, and then died away. But it was too late.

 _Temp132ºC bodymassmassmass 1gr50gr00000000 blood pressure 1/98/120/34339 heartrate 15/hr/min/hr/day_ —

The armor's readings vanished, and then reappeared with a simple message. _Contact with Subject CapA and A$$ lost._

"Oh my God." Tony flipped up his faceplate. He didn't want to see the news flash over his sceens; he could see it for himself, without the awful finality of technological confirmation. Two pairs of clothes, loosely piled, were all that was left of Steve and Fury. There was air on the ship, but he couldn't breathe. His armor weighed him down, rooting him in place. "They're—oh my God, Cap—"

"MROW." The pile of blue leather shuddered. A bright golden head rose up, two faintly tufted ears poking through the cowl's eyeholes. They flipped forward, twitched around curiously, and finished pinned back flat against the cat's skull. In the other pile, a dark-furred head made a similar apearance. It— _he_ —had only one eye, and a mouthful of very sharp teeth showing behind curled lips. Both of them were huge, fifty pound monsters.

Fury fought his way free of his uniform and took a seat by Tony's ankle. He yowled, placing a paw on the toe of the Iron Man armor. Steve twisted and squirmed his way out of the cowl, taking a stance by Tony's other leg. He rumbled low in his throat, hackles on end, sounding more like a small lawn mower than a living creature.

 _Alien lifeforms detected,_ the audio-link to his sensors announced. _Scanning._

Cap meowed and rubbed his cheek against Tony's shin. Cautiously, Tony reached down to pet him. Two huge paws wrapped around his wrist, holding it in place for Steve to sniff. The purr died away as Steve turned all of his attention to chewing Tony's metal fingertips. Fury growled and swatted at Steve, who growled back.

In the dead quiet of the abandoned ship, Tony started laughing. It broke open the floodgates. He dropped to his knees, choking and giggling as shock and relief pushed back the horrified grief.

When he finally got himself back under control, Tony reached out to pat Fury's head, and earned four claw marks in his paintjob for his trouble.

"Jan is going to _kill_ me."  


* * *

  
Fury and Steve looked up at him from his feet. The shuttle had originally been created as a scientific vessel, so there were plenty of places to store them for re-entry. But until then, he didn't want to confine them. It seemed cruel, and there was no telling how much they understood. Tony could find himself in the doghouse if he treated them like cats. "Stay back here," Tony said slowly, pointing a gauntleted finger at first Steve, then Fury. "Stay. I have to pilot this thing back to Earth so just... don't. Don't do anything."

Steve meowed. His back arched as he rubbed against Tony's shin, first one side and then the other. As he settled down, his tail curved possessively around Tony's ankle.

Muscles rolled as Fury stretched. His claws skittered across the metal floorboards. In the brighter light of the shuttle, he was dark brown with slightly darker swirls and stripes. He was sort of pretty, if Fury was allowed to be pretty.

Slowly, Fury strolled around Tony. He cocked his head, looking up and down. Then he turned around, lifted his tail, and squirted.

In an instant, Steve was on him, knocking Fury off his feet and sending him skittering over the floor. Fury rolled to his feet, hissing and spitting, tail fluffed out, but Tony had already scooped Steve up and out of harm's way.

"Guess that settles it. Not all there," he sighed. Steve purred and rubbed his cheek against Tony's.  


* * *

  
"Don't let them free!"

Wanda looked up from the large kennel she was kneeling beside. The kennels were tucked up at the front of the Triskelion's smaller meeting room, one on either side of the door. Tony hadn't trusted them not to kill each other through the bars if they were side-by-side. "They're our teammates," she insisted, poking a finger through the mesh. Fury purred like a Harley and rubbed up against the finger. His single golden eye gleamed with angelic innocence. "And look. He's so sweet. They must be lonely in there."

"He spent the trip back trying to kill Steve and me. Kennels were the only way to keep him from slaughtering us all." Tony showed her one of his wounds, a four-inch long gash along his cheek. "I tried to keep him from shredding the co-pilot's seat. And that was _after_ he scent-marked me. The armor is going to smell like cat piss for months."

"You're being melodramatic." Wanda wiggled her finger to scratch the base of Fury's ear. Her voice fell into the gentle roll that people used when speaking to babies and small animals. She leaned in close enough to touch noses with the little monster, making Tony worry for her eyes. "He's a good kitty. Aren't you, Nick? Yes you are."

In his kennel, Steve yowled. The metal cage rocked violently as he fought to at Fury .If he hadn't used every chance he had to try and kill Fury, Steve wouldn't even have been locked up. He seemed well behaved otherwise, but...

Hank's briefcase clattered as he walked in and dumped it against the wall. Pietro was already seated, watching his sister fondly. The only person missing was Jan, and she was never far behind Hank. "How long is it going to last?" Hank settled into his usual chair and stretched his legs out. "That's all we need to know."

They could call the meeting to order, but that would be taking responsibility. Taking responsibility had moved to the top of Tony's private list of things to avoid, just under cat-scratch fever. "A week, according to Reed Richards," he sighed. Steve's kennel _thunked_ again as Tony walked by to sprawl in a chair at the head of the meeting table. "Their DNA isn't stable like this. Whatever that ray was meant for, it wasn't people."

"Can they understand us?" Jan finally wandered in, stripping off her heavy winter coat. "Are they still in there somewhere?"

"They're just cats," Tony explained, ignoring Steve's warning growl. "Compared to normal housecats, they're about as smart as they were compared to normal humans, so very intelligent, but not up to human comprehension."

One of Fury's paws reached through the bars and patted Wanda's cheek. "Mrow?" he asked sadly.

She visibly melted, shoulders rounding as her lower lip extended in a pout. "Oh, you poor thing. That's it. I'm letting him out." Before Tony could protest, Wanda threw the latch and opened the door.

She slammed backwards as Hurricane Fury exploded out of the kennel, screeching like a lost soul. He used her as a springboard to launch himself at Steve's kennel, which crashed onto its side, both cats hissing and clawing at each other through the bars.

Wanda vanished, reappearing safely in Pietro's arms across the room without even having hit the ground. Meanwhile, Steve and Fury tore into each other. The door to Steve's kennel groaned as it popped off the hinges. As soon as it swung open, Steve shot out the open door and bounced off the floor to wrap himself around Fury. They rolled across the floor in a ball of hissing, spitting fur and blood.

Tony ripped off his suit jacket and threw it over the cats , trying to pull them apart. Jan helped, braving claws and teeth to wrap her arms around Fury's chest and wrench him off. Countless scratches and a bite mark later, Tony and Jan ended up with a shared armful of enraged, furry Steve. Fury crouched down, fur on end and teeth bared. His tail flicked sharply, once, before he turned and dashed out into the hall. A shout bounced off the metal ceiling, followed by a pained scream.

The formerly-human Captain America squirmed and yowled against Tony's chest, but the most damage he could do were some bruises from trying to bite through the cloth. It took them both to keep him trapped.

"What the _Hell_ was that?" Hank demanded. "How are we supposed to catch him now?"

Tony ignored Hank—he knew better than to ask for impossible things. "Jan?"

"Yes, Tony?" she asked tiredly, from all of three inches away. He was close enough to see that she wasn't wearing mascara.

"Do SHIELD benefits cover mauling by a felinated general?"

Jan closed her eyes. In the jacket, Steve squirmed his head out, ears back and teeth bared. As soon as he saw Jan, his ears popped up. He butted his head against her, a deep-throated purr rumbling in his throat. "I hope so."  


* * *

  
"I'm still not sure we should bring him home," Tony argued, while Jan carried fifty pounds of furry Captain America through the front door. Against all common sense, Steve was purring. He curled around her shoulders and neck, watching the world through bright, curious eyes. So far, he hadn't made any escape attempts, other than when they'd tried to clean the scratches from his fight. That had taught the unhappy lesson that regardless of species, sedatives still didn't work on Captain America. "Isn't he safer on the Triskelion?"

"With Fury lurking in the air vents?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Tony had to privately concede that she had a point. Before they'd left, three people had sighted Fury, and one had been bitten. Agents were under orders to wear body armor. "But what if something happens? You saw how he behaved."

"I think he'll behave just fine. Watch." She unwrapped Steve from around her shoulders, one paw at a time. He tried unsuccessfully to cling, mewing pitifully as she set him down on Tony's favorite leather recliner. Steve sniffed it a few times, then settled meekly on the cushion. Leather squeaked as he buried his head in the corner, and then flopped on his side.

"See?" Jan patted Steve on the back. "He'll be fine. Now come help decide what brand of cat food to buy."

Tony watched Steve warily for a moment, then slowly trailed after Jan.

Three hours later, the recliner had been shredded, and Hank needed five stitches in his left hamd.  


* * *

  
Heavy weight pressed down on Tony's chest.

"Mrrrrrrrrwr."

He struggled to breathe. Something was wrong with the suit. The environmental controls, the cushioning gel—he couldn't catch his breath, something was wrong, it was wrong wrong _wrong_ —

"Mrrrrrrrrwr."

Something rough and faintly damp scraped his eyelid.

Tony woke up with a shout, trying to sit up. Claws dug into his chest as Steve fought to stay in place. Big blue eyes stared at him in the glow of the digital alarm. They stared at each other.

"You have got to be kidding me." He lowered himself back down. Obligingly, Steve retracted his claws. "We aren't doing this. You can sleep on the floor. Or the cat bed. I bought you a cat bed."

Steve yawned, blinking sleepily. His chin settled onto his front paws, purr starting up arhythmically. "Mrrrrrrrrrwr."

"No."

" _Mrrrrrrrrrwr_."

"I said _no_."

Steve's paw landed on his mouth. Ever so carefully, the paw flexed, sending just a hint of sharp claws into his lips. Tony nodded, and the paw was removed.

Point made. Five of them.

While Tony stared up at the ceiling, Steve started purring again.  


* * *

  
Wanda's giggles in the TV room attracted Tony's attention as he stumbled through the hall on his way back from the kitchen. Steve was gone and Tony's chest cold by the time he'd woken up. That had been balanced out with a crick in his lower back that made even pouring his usual Bloody Mary a chore.

Tonight, the door was going to be locked.

He followed the sound of laughter. What he saw almost made him spit out his drink.

Wanda was sprawled out on the sofa, in one of her usual, miniscule numbers—a pair of black tights and a scarlet dress that showed off more than it usually did. Square on _her_ chest and stomach, his head nestled snugly between her breasts, was Steve. He had his paws wrapped around her necklace, and was chewing on the pendant.

"You're such a good kitty," Wanda smiled, tugging the chain. Whatever the pendant was, it jingled. Like a cat possessed, Steve swatted at it, rolling over onto his back and cuddling deeper into her cleavage in the process. She tickled his belly, drawing more ecstatic contortions from Steve.

Tony turned around to go back to the kitchen. He needed a stronger drink.  


* * *

  
" _MRRRROOOOOOOOOOO_ —"

"NO!"

" — _OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW_ —"

Claws scratched at the bottom of Tony's bedroom door, no doubt ruining the wood. Blindly, he grabbed a neck roll and lobbed it at the door with a satisfying _thunk_. The scratching paused, then picked up with renewed fervor.

" _MRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOO_ —"

The door opened. Pietro's slim profile blocked most of the light, but not enough that Tony missed seeing Steve dart inside. Tony's bed dipped as Steve hopped up, immediately moving to his place on Tony's chest.

"Either he sleeps with you, or I'll have Clint shoot you both."

The door slammed.

"Mrrrrrrrrrwr."  


* * *

  
"How intelligent are they supposed to be again?" Jan asked Tony over the phone. Behind her, the shouts of a large number of people panicking made it almost impossible to hear her clearly. "I mean, how smart are cats, anyway? Compared to humans?"

Tony scowled down at the budget on his desk. Exhaustion was a heavy weight behind his eyes, making the numbers blur in meaning. Five days with Captain America in his bed wasn't nearly as pleasant as he'd occasionally pondered. He rubbed his eyes. "I don't know—you're the biologist. Not too smart, I guess. Why?"

"A SHIELD agent was found dead at the bottom of some stairs today. Tripped, looks like," Jan reported briskly. "Turns out he was a double agent. And another guy is in the infirmary—a janitor. He says a small puma attacked him while he was mopping."

"What was he, a terrorist?" Tony gave up and just signed the on the dotted line. Pepper would keep him from okaying anything too bizarre. Probably.

"He stole some pens. We found them in his pocket."

"Pens."

"Yeah."

Tony rubbed his forehead. "Let me get this clear. Nick Fury is stalking _pen thieves_ in the walls of the Triskelion, and Captain America is getting belly rubs. Am I right?"

"Spot on."

"I'll talk to Reed. Maybe he can give us some more information."

"Great. And Tony?"

"Yes, darling?"

"It had _better_ only be a week."  


* * *

  
Around midnight, the usual weight on Tony's chest magnified five-fold in an instant, forcing all the air from his lungs. He woke up with a shock, squirming until some of the pressure gave way and he could breathe again. A low, wheezing purr sounded in his ear, along with a scrape of week-old stubble.

Tony opened his eyes.

Steve— _human_ Steve—was fast asleep, and wearing only his skin besides. Tony petted down his back, which made the wheezing purr jump in volume. Every few moments, Steve's hands flexed against Tony's chest, kneading.

It was... kind of nice.

Sighing, Tony settled back against the pillows. He petted Steve again, earning a very human nuzzle. He'd wake him in the morning. Fifty thousand dollars in damage, the least he could do was get in one last jab.

He hoped Steve still liked jingling car keys.


End file.
